The Song of the Winns (29 page)

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Authors: Frances Watts

BOOK: The Song of the Winns
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The Traitor

A
listair!” a voice cried. “What are you doing?”

Alistair started. It was Slippers Pink!

“Slippers! Keaters, it's okay—it's Slippers Pink.” But when he glanced up at the window, the black mouse had vanished. “Keaters?”

“Alistair?” Slippers Pink was staring up at him in astonishment. “What are you doing up there?”

“Er, we were escaping,” Alistair said. He looked at the balled-up scarf in his hand, then at the empty windowsill. “Me and Keaters. But he must have jumped. We thought you were the guards, you see.”

“Keaters,” Slippers sniffed. “I should have known.” She rubbed the back of her neck reflectively. “Put your scarf back on, Alistair, and come down from there. We need to get moving.”

Alistair hastily knotted his scarf around his neck and clambered down the metal slats.

“You've had a close call there, my boy,” Slippers said when Alistair was standing on the floor in front of her. Her voice was grim, but she laid an affectionate hand on his shoulder.

“What do you mean?” Alistair asked.

“Keaters,” Slippers growled. Then she held up a hand and peered around the edge of the doorway. “All clear. Right, follow me and I'll explain as we go.”

They set off down the corridor, back the way they had come hours earlier, past cell after empty cell.

“Just as you entered the cell looking for Emmeline and Rebus, I saw a shadow move in the next cell along. I ducked into the nearest cell myself and waited, and sure enough I heard a cell door bang, and you call out, then I saw a mouse rush away down the corridor. I thought it was odd that he wasn't wearing a guard's uniform, so I followed him.” She shook her head wearily. “I ended up chasing him all over the island. We had quite a tussle at the end. I wasn't able to make him talk.” She rubbed her knuckles ruefully. “Probably because I had to knock him out so he didn't push me over a cliff. At least I got the key to the cell though.”

As they reached the bottom of the stairs Alistair hastened toward the door, eager to leave the cold stone tower far behind him. But Slippers Pink grabbed his arm. “Wait,” she said in a low voice. “We need a plan to get off this island. Since there is not another soul here, I'd presume Keaters and his accomplice arrived by the boat we saw.”

“There's no one else?” said Alistair. “No one at all?”

“No guards, no prisoners,” Slippers Pink confirmed. “Strange, huh?”

“Very,” Alistair agreed. “So our plan is to take their boat?” He was relieved to hear that they wouldn't be returning via the underwater tunnel; he didn't think he could face it again.

“Before they do,” said Slippers Pink. “And we don't have much time. Knowing Keaters, he won't bother looking for his accomplice; he'll only be interested in saving his own sorry skin. He's had a head start, and he'll be watching for us, which will make it all the harder.”

“So what should we do?” asked Alistair.

“Look and listen,” Slippers Pink explained.

They sat just inside the door to the tower, from where they had a good view of the reef below. The only sound was the waves crashing onto rocks.

Alistair was dying to ask Slippers about Keaters, but every time he opened his mouth to whisper the question she raised her slender hand and shook her head.

Many minutes passed, and then manymore, until Alistair was starting to feel sure that Keaters must have already left the island. Then Slippers Pink touched him lightly on the arm and pointed.

“There,” she breathed.

Out of the shadows of the tower limped a small black mouse. He must have injured himself jumping from the second story of the tower, Alistair surmised.

“He was probably waiting for us to leave so he could
follow us,” Slippers said. “I imagine he's still trying to catch you. Now he'll be thinking that we somehow slipped by him.”

As the black mouse slid and stumbled down the cliff path, Slippers said, “Let's go after him—but quietly. The element of surprise is the only weapon we have.”

They had just about caught up with Keaters when he stopped suddenly. Slippers ducked behind a rock, pulling Alistair down into a crouch beside her.

“What's he doing?” she asked. “Oh, I see.” The black mouse had hidden the oars in a clump of gorse and was pulling them out.

“I'll take that,” said Slippers Pink, stepping out from behind the rock and seizing one of the oars.

“You!” said Keaters.

“That's right,” said Slippers pleasantly. “It's been a while, hasn't it, Keaters?”

“Not long enough,” snarled the black mouse, raising the second oar above his head threateningly. “But here's a thought—maybe this mission doesn't have to be such a dead loss after all. How about you hand over the ginger brat or I'll bring this oar down on your head? Are you there, Alistair? Come on out like a good boy or I'll give your friend Slippers a nasty headache.”

“Don't listen to him, Alistair,” Slippers said quickly. “Stay where you are.”

But Alistair had a better idea. Concealed by the rock, he slid off the path and clambered down, taking care not to disturb any loose rocks, until he was standing in the
water lapping at the base of the cliff several meters below. From here, he began to wade unseen toward the boat.

“Still hesitating, Alistair?” said Keaters. “I have to tell you, I'm not all that keen on the pauses and hesitations. I prefer a decisive character, myself. I'll make it easy on you, okay? If you haven't come out by the time I count to three, Slippers will be having a nice long sleep. Like I did when the guards slipped something into my breakfast—oh wait, that's right. There were no guards. I made it all up.” He laughed cruelly. “Just like I sawed through the bars of the cell so I could escape and leave you stranded there to die once you'd told me your secrets. So what are your secrets, hmm, Alistair? It's something to do with that scarf, isn't it? That scarf would be mine now if only Slippers Pink hadn't turned up. Still the same old spoilsport, aren't you, Slippers? Shall I just give her a little tap on the head, Alistair, or would you like to come save her?”

“Stay where you are, Alistair,” Slippers repeated. “I've got an oar too and I've been looking forward to getting my own back on this miserable traitor for a long time. Just you try it, Keaters,” she dared him.

Alistair reached the boat and tried to climb onto the path below the black mouse, but the wet rocks were slippery and he fell to his hands and knees, scrambling desperately to get to his feet.

“One . . . ,” Keaters began. “Two . . . Decision time, Alistair.”

With a desperate lunge, Alistair grabbed the black
mouse by the tail and yanked.

“Thr—ooph!” Keaters's feet shot out from under him and he landed heavily on his stomach. As he lay there, winded, Slippers Pink skipped neatly over his prone body, collecting the second oar on the way.

“Neatly done, Alistair,” she complimented him. She climbed awkwardly into the boat. “Push us off, will you?” She maneuvered the oars into position as Alistair quickly untied the boat and gave it a shove until it was bobbing in deeper water. As he hauled himself into the boat Slippers began to row—though not very well, Alistair noted, as she pulled too hard on the left oar and sent them circling back toward the cliff.

“Perhaps I could do that,” he offered.

“Ah yes,” said Slippers Pink, handing him the oars. “I'd forgotten. You have quite a lot of rowing experience, don't you?”

“Too much,” said Alistair.

As he pulled hard on the oars, pleased to see he hadn't lost the knack, he observed, “It looks like Keaters is getting up.”

Slippers, who had her back to the shore, turned to watch. The shabby black mouse was shaking his fist at them. It looked like he was yelling something, but Alistair couldn't make out what.

“Good riddance,” Slippers said. “Now somehow we need to get around to the other side of this cliff and back to the beach where Feast and Tibby are.”

The next half-hour was a tense one, as Alistair put all
his strength into rowing against the current that tried to wash them back onto the rocks, while Slippers Pink watched for hazards and screamed directions over the sound of crashing surf.

“Head farther to your left,” she called. “I think I see a channel.”

Too breathless to turn around and see for himself, Alistair did as he was told.

“Now a hard right, but look sharp—the passage is pretty narrow.”

Alistair's shoulders ached, but he continued to row hard through the pain. Within minutes the boat was scraping between two rocks and then, thankfully, they were in calm water, with the current pushing them forward. Alistair pulled up the oars and let the boat drift while he tried to catch his breath.

“Nice going,” said Slippers Pink approvingly. “There's no way I could have handled that myself.”

Alistair glowed at the compliment, glad to feel that he was contributing something useful after he'd been so foolish as to walk into Keaters's trap. He finally asked the question that had been on the tip of his tongue ever since Slippers had burst into the cell.

“How do you know Keaters? He said the two of you go way back.”

“Keaters!” said Slippers Pink, and her voice was filled with contempt. “That double-crossing, two-faced toad. Ha! We go way back all right. I suppose he told you that we joined FIG together?” She looked at Alistair, who
nodded. “Well, it's true, we did. But what I'll bet he didn't tell you was that he joined in order to spy on us. Oh, he was very clever about it. It was years before we worked out how it was that Queen Eugenia seemed able to anticipate our every move. By the time we worked out we had a traitor in our midst, it was too late.” Slippers Pink fell silent. Her voice was heavy when at last she continued, “One of the people he betrayed was my dearest friend in the world. Another was Zanzibar.”

“He . . . he's the one who betrayed Zanzibar?” Alistair's blood ran cold at the thought. “What did he want with me? He was going to leave me to die!”

Slippers didn't say anything, but shook her head.

“So the whole thing was a setup,” said Alistair bitterly. “Him being in the cell where my parents were supposed to be, deciding we should try to escape. I was the one who thought of using the cot, but that was probably part of his plan too. And I walked straight into it.” Alistair felt disgusted with himself. “It was all too easy when I think about it. Why though? Why go to all that trouble over me?”

Still Slippers was silent.

“Maybe,” said Alistair slowly, recalling how insistent Keaters had been that Alistair throw him the scarf, “it wasn't me he wanted; it was my scarf. He knew it was important somehow.” He clutched the ends protectively. He'd been so close to giving it up, too. If Slippers hadn't burst in . . . “So he didn't really share a cell with my parents then?”

“I doubt it,” said Slippers.

“But he seemed to know so much about me.”

“Mm,” agreed Slippers Pink, her lips a tight line. “I'd love to know where he's getting his information.”

As they drifted out of the channel, Alistair took up the oars again. If the channel came out where he thought, the beach was behind him and the cave near the rocks to his left.

Settling into a steady stroke, he considered what Slippers Pink had said. How had Keaters and his accomplice known that Alistair would be on Atticus Island? He ran through the possibilities. Althea? No, not possible. Billy Mac, then? Now that he thought about it, the fisherman hadn't been all that friendly, but he'd still agreed to take Alistair and Slippers Pink to the island. Maybe he was part of the trap too? It occurred to him that if this was the case, Tibby Rose and Feast Thompson might be in real trouble. He almost groaned aloud at the thought that after all the day's disappointments, it might yet grow a lot worse. He was about to mention his fears to Slippers Pink when suddenly she sat up straight and pointed.

“I think I see them.”

Alistair craned his head around. Yes, there were two shadows, one large and one small, sitting at the far side of the cove. He corrected his course, then resumed rowing with increased vigor. It was possible that at least one thing might go right today.

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